


Culinary Infamy

by handschuhmaus



Series: Rogues and Ramblers: Tales from the World(s) of Star Wars Rebels [6]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Cooking, Gen, If Artoo is a dog Chopper is a cat they said, Ratatouille references, silliness, they're nicer here than they are on this show apparently, to the extent that I said I called it on Droids in Distress when Sabine was Zeb's 'ward', well begun early in the show's run, written early in the show's run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2648852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handschuhmaus/pseuds/handschuhmaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a relatively peaceful morning, a meal is being readied aboard the <em>Ghost</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Culinary Infamy

**Author's Note:**

> just a bit of familial fluff for the Ghost crew...

“And that,” Zeb confided, secretly elated that he still had the attention of the young Mandalorian, “is how I make my famous chili.” He had been eyeing the doorway to the galley at intervals to ensure that they were not about to be interrupted by the kid, who he might not _entirely_ dislike but who he didn’t want suspecting that, or, least of all, his fondness for Sabine. It was a nearly paternal interest, you may rest confident, even though he preferred to think of himself as a sort of older brother. Or maybe cool young bachelor uncle, that would do.

“I thought it was more likely to be called ‘infamous’,” Kanan noted, sticking his head in while passing and irritating Zeb for having bypassed his notice until he spoke. It took him a moment to realize that the Jedi was teasing him. 

“Would it?” Sabine asked, amused. She stepped aside as Chopper trundled in and irritably trilled at Zeb that his heating pot, jury-rigged here in the galley for cooking purposes beyond standard rations, did not meet the droid’s expectations.

“Hey,” Zeb told him lightly, knowing full well what the droid meant and that he wasn’t addressing his points, “don’t go complaining. You can’t eat it anyway.” Chopper made an arrogant bloop in response that was almost reminiscent of a feline with affronted dignity.

“Who can’t eat it?” Hera inquired, good-naturedly teasing. They were in hyperspace, so her constant attention as pilot was hardly required, yet it was still unusual for her to be away from the cockpit during flight without drafting one of them to keep an eye on things. Noticing the puzzled glances she was getting because of this, she reassured them, “I just went to the ‘fresher for a minute. I left Ezra to alert us if something went wrong. I haven’t deserted my post. Were you talking to Chopper just now, Zeb?”

Before any of them could answer, the grumpy astromech let loose in sound with a litany of complaints regarding Zeb’s cooking, the wiring of the galley, and the condition of the wiring of the galley, and which might have gone on to encompass sundry other complaints, had Sabine not shot a pointed look at Chopper which rapidly shut the droid up.

"Yeah, he doesn't like my cooking, but it's not as if he's in a position to comment," Zeb remarked.

"Well, I don't think the rest of us _anticipated_ your cooking, Zeb," Kanan put in, peering at the glass lid only to be thwarted in his attempts to catch a mouthwatering glimpse by the condensation fogging the lid.

"Aw, c'mon," Hera protested. "'Anyone can cook', you know," and she snickered a bit over her own quote despite the fact that only Chopper and Zeb even recognized the allusion and neither of them acknowledged it: the droid thinking it entirely irrelevant, and the Lasat considering it beneath his dignity.

" _Anyone_?" Kanan repeated puzzledly. 

"Yes," the pilot relented, "it's in that holo, about that small rodent who discovers he has a talent for cooking?" The Jedi showed no signs of recognition.

Zeb took advantage of her explanation to tease her again, "Are you saying my cooking is on par with a rat's, Hera?"

Hera was momentarily taken aback by this question. "No, but if I was--Zeb, the point of the movie is that he's a very good cook, even though he is a rodent, and unexpected..."

"Okay, okay, quit hassling me and it'll be done that much faster for lunch. Scram, Mr. Jedi," the Lasat instructed.

Frowning (because it didn't seem befitting for a Jedi to call it a pout), Kanan turned and went back out. Hera looked at him, conveying "I've got your number" without saying a word pretty expertly, as she stepped towards the room's door.

With the willful literal-mindedness of teenagers the galaxy around, Sabine took the opportunity to point out, "But the stew won't be done any faster regardless of who's in the kitchen, because the burner's operation isn't affected by anyone's presence."

Zeb was not deterred in his determination not to be pestered by crewmates debating children's holos. "It's chili," he corrected, ignoring her point. "And it'll be done in about half-an-hour, at least, done enough to eat."

Hera opened her mouth, probably to debate the question of chili doneness and what Zeb considered worthy of eating, but thought better of bringing anything else up. Instead, she said "Chopper, why don't you run a check on the _Phantom's_ fluid levels?" to which the droid bloopled arrogantly and followed her out.

**Author's Note:**

> might or might not be continued...


End file.
